


NFWMB

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mpreg, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Alex returns home for his ten year reunion, eager to see Michael again. Only, Michael Guerin has been missing for four years. Things get a lot weirder when Max and Isobel Evans drag Alex out to the turquoise mines and Alex finds out that Michael isn't missing at all, and it's all much weirder than that.He's pregnant and he's in a pod.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 40
Kudos: 204





	NFWMB

**Author's Note:**

  * For [christchex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christchex/gifts).



> This fic is for Christi, who basically kept me writing post 2x06 when all other ideas and creativity fled me. It helped give me something to focus on, and given how much I babble at you about my stuff, consider this a thank you and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Title is NFWMB (Nothing Fucks With My Baby) by Hozier.

Blue streamers glittered above him, pushed around by an aggressive AC unit within the school gym that chilled the air and made the ones who brought sweaters the smarter of the attendees. Even with the cooler air, Alex was fairly sure the chill down the back of his neck had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with anticipation. The ten year reunion was the first time he was back in Roswell in four years, and after the way he’d left last time, he’d been desperate to get back.

> _Fingers traipsed over Alex’s stomach, making him twitch and shift._
> 
> _“Guerin,” Alex protested, still trying to reach for his shirt. “I have to get back to the base. The plane leaves soon and if I’m not on it, I’m arrested.” Staring at Michael’s forlorn gaze was the hardest thing Alex ever had to do. He shouldn’t have come back. Six years after their summer together and Guerin hadn’t changed much, but he didn’t look away from Alex and he was there for him. He hadn’t been arrested during Alex’s leave, likely because they’d been inseparable, leaving Alex with the hope that this week could translate into something more permanent down the line._
> 
> _It was the most incredible week of Alex’s life._
> 
> _He hadn’t worn a pair of pants in days, not until he had to leave -- if he’d even be allowed to leave._
> 
> _“Guerin,” he protested, when the pants were pulled away from him. “I guarantee that you don’t want me showing up at the airport without my pants.”_
> 
> _“You’re right. I don’t want you going anywhere.”_
> 
> _Alex’s heart sank in his chest. This was non-negotiable. There were signed papers. He had re-upped because he didn’t think there was anything left for him in Roswell and even though Michael had spent the last week proving him wrong, that didn’t change things. “Michael,” he exhaled._
> 
> _It felt like the right thing to say, but the way Michael’s face crumpled hurt even more. Alex knew that he didn’t use his first name as often as he should, but to see Michael internalize that and feel pain, not joy, cut Alex to the quick._
> 
> _“I’ll be here, okay?” Michael vowed. “You gotta come home, Alex. If I have to let you go, I need you to promise that you’ll come home.”_
> 
> _Alex leaned in to press his forehead to Michael’s, sliding his splayed palm over his heart to feel the steady beating. “I swear,” he vowed. “I’m coming back to you. If I come back and you’re here, waiting for me, then I’m coming back and we’ll get a start.”_
> 
> _It was a promise he intended to keep._

Only, then Alex did get back to town and Michael hadn’t been waiting at the airport for him. Alex had asked around town, but no one had seen Michael in a while, and there were no voicemails on his machine or hints that Michael even _cared_.

Four years had passed. Maybe the promises they whispered to each other in the Airstream didn’t mean as much now that time had washed them away. Days had passed since Alex’s return and Michael hadn’t reached out.

The reunion felt like his last shot. 

He probably should have called back Forrest Long, who’d matched with him on a dating site before Alex had switched his location settings almost half a decade ago. He was sweet, even if the whole ‘cousin of Wyatt’ thing was a little hard to get over, but instead of asking if Forrest wanted to grab a drink, Alex settled in for the wait.

Michael was going to show up. It was the ten year reunion. If he was going to come back and keep his promise, it would be tonight that Michael turned up to hold him to it. 

He sat on the edges of the reunion watching old friends hugging, old lovers awkwardly greeting one another, and the smug ritual of people boasting about how far they’d come.

By midnight, it was clear that Alex wasn’t going to have a weepy reunion with any old flames and seeing as he’d come back from Iraq with a part of himself physically lost, he didn’t think he’d win any competition about how much he’d gained over the years. He shifted his weight carefully, still getting used to the weight of the crutch, and settled back against one of the chairs, trying to bury the heartache. It _hurt_ that Michael wasn’t here, more than he knew how to say.

“Hey, gloomy boots,” Maria said gently, taking the chair beside him. “What’s the matter? I can feel your heartbreak from across the room.” She reached out to rest her fingers under his chin, reading him, even though Alex didn’t love when she did that. “You were hopeful,” she spoke slowly. “You thought your museum guy would be here and that you would rekindle things.”

He did. 

Stupidly, he really did.

“I guess he left town,” Alex said, the numbness creeping into his limbs. That was what he wanted, all those years ago, right? He’d wanted Michael to do something with his life. Maybe their promise fell in the face of Michael seeking better for himself.

Good for Michael.

Awful for Alex.

“There are other fish out there,” Maria promised, squeezing his shoulder. 

Alex didn’t dare protest that Michael was his _sea_. If he’d left town, then it didn’t matter. Somewhere, Michael was living the better life Alex wanted for him. Deep down, loving him meant being willing to accept that might have to happen outside Roswell. Maybe someone here would have a forwarding address, so they could connect once more. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, not wanting Maria to feel like she had to comfort him all night. 

He was about to ask her to dance when a shadow fell over him, blocking out the spotlights from blinding him in their sweeping pass around the room. It wasn’t Michael, was the first thing that his brain helpfully pointed out, but it was someone close to him. 

“Alex Manes.” The disapproval in the woman’s tone was obvious, but Alex was wracking his brain to understand why, coming up short. 

There stood Isobel Evans with Max flanking her side like an unhappy bodyguard. He looked between them with mild alarm, not sure what he’d done to get both their attention.

“Hi?” he said warily. 

She sighed heavily, like his presence was annoying her. Alex bristled at the implication that he’d done something wrong, when she was the one to come over to him. “We need you to come with us.”

What did they say? Never go with a kidnapper to a secondary location. Alex frantically glanced back at Maria to see if she understood what the hell was going on, but she looked as clueless about this as he felt. He didn’t move from his chair, unwilling to budge until he knew more. 

“Why?”

Isobel sighed heavily, giving Max a pleading look.

“Alex,” Max said. “I know you barely know us, but Michael left a message for you and if we want to deliver it properly, you need to come with us.”

“Michael?” Maria echoed. “Wait, which Michael?” 

Shame and fear prickled his skin. Alex hadn’t wanted to have everyone know like this, especially in a room filled with people that might talk, where gossip might circulate back to his father. The ideal option was to go back in time and prevent Max from opening his big mouth, but second best was getting out of there. 

He nodded as he reached for his crutch, gripping it to push to his feet. He saw the way everyone suddenly averted their gaze, and that brought a different kind of shame with it. _Get out of here_ , his brain told him, scanning the reunion for Jesse Manes or anyone who could hurt him. 

“Maria,” he said, trying to keep her from following or worrying. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

She didn’t seem to want to accept that, but it didn’t seem like Isobel was going to let Alex take any plus-ones with him, so he didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine,” she relented, even if she seemed unhappy. 

Alex moved steadily on the crutch, grimacing as Isobel and Max flanked him like bodyguards.

“Someone better explain on the way,” he warned.

Where the hell was Michael? And what had he managed to get himself into?

Max and Isobel were completely unhelpful as they helped Alex into the back of Max’s Jeep, driving off into the desert. Alex hadn’t brought any weapons with him because he was attending his high school reunion and he shouldn’t _need_ them. 

He hadn’t counted on the Evans twins.

They drove for over half an hour before Max slowed down, taking the car off the road and onto less-traveled gravel. Alex reached out for the handle, trying to ignore the sudden flash of familiarity from Iraq, a knot of panic in his stomach building as he tried to dissuade sense memory from overwhelming him with an attack.

“...stupid that we have to come to the turquoise caves…”

Isobel’s voice droned in the back of his awareness, a buzzing that Alex forced himself to follow until he could center himself in the present. They slowed to a stop, but where _here_ was, he didn’t know, other than having Isobel’s one clue about caves.

“I swear to god, if you brought me here to murder me…”

Max gave him an uncertain look in the rearview mirror. “Michael would kill us.”

Alex would get there first, but that didn’t bear saying out loud.

Isobel left the car first, full of determination. Her boots crunched on the desert ground as she moved, with Alex opening the door and getting his crutch out to follow. Max stayed at his side, leaning into the car to turn the headlights on so they would illuminate the path and give them something to navigate by. 

Isobel gestured for them to follow. “Come on, it’s this way.”

Alex fumbled with his crutch, finding it nearly impossible in the shadows with the divots in the ground. Isobel paused to see why it was taking so long, but her eyes tracked to the side and she gave Max a pleading look. Within seconds, Max was at his side, helping to hold his arm, even though Alex hadn’t asked.

Tersing his jaw, he bit out, “I’m fine,” at Max.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the help, but he wanted the dignity of being able to decide when and how he wanted it. Max let go, and even though Alex struggled a little more than he would have without the help, he still had his pride. He bowed his head and focused on the walking, not the fear.

What the hell happened to Michael? 

Why were they out here?

He entered the small cave complex, staggering to a stop when the first thing he saw was three egg-shaped structures. They were the cause of the strange illumination on the walls, a glimmering pink and purple grotto, bathed in soft lights. 

“What the…?”

Two of the eggs were empty, but the third wasn’t. 

If you measured Alex’s pulse at that moment, it would register off the charts. His panic was making his earlier brush with an attack worse, and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. His grip on his crutch tightened and he stepped towards the third egg, seeing a glimmer of a form tucked within it that was so familiar, so perfect, so _his_...

“He left a letter for you,” Isobel said, extending it to Alex. 

It was still sealed and from the look on her face, it had killed her to keep it that way. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Alex demanded, forcing his voice down an octave so the panic couldn’t invade. “Tell me! Tell me what these things are, why does it look like Michael is _in_ one of them! What the hell is going on?”

“Read the letter first,” Isobel reiterated, thrusting it at him again. “We don’t know what he told you. Read it, we’ll fill in the blanks after.” 

Alex didn’t know what to make of the situation, but Isobel kept shoving the letter in his face. He could ignore it, but that felt like the kind of stubborn and stupid thing that wouldn’t get him answers. He grabbed it from her, tearing the corner off in his haste, and stood with his attention still given to Isobel and Max, in case they planned to try anything. The letter was sealed, which didn’t mean they hadn’t read it. 

After all, Alex knew at least three ways to read the contents of a letter without leaving evidence that it had been opened before. 

Given the way they were staring at him, Alex suspected they’d obeyed Michael’s wishes to keep it secret, seeing as they kept hovering near him. Alex’s wariness over his security began to dwindle as he unfolded the letter to see Michael’s handwriting sloping over the pages.

Everything else in the world faded into unimportant nothingness. 

His fingers trembled as he fought to get a hold of himself, praying that Michael was still alive inside that thing, that he hadn’t died and he was in some kind of weird embalming egg until Alex could say goodbye.

> _Alex,_
> 
> _By the time you’re reading this, you’ll have figured out that I’ve been missing or at least that I wasn’t there when you got back to town._
> 
> _Don’t panic._
> 
> _I know telling you not to panic is only going to make it worse, so I’m hoping Isobel and Max brought you out to me, because this isn’t the kind of easy thing to explain. We didn’t really know what to do, so they stuck me in the pod._
> 
> _Yes._
> 
> _I wrote pod._
> 
> _I’m an alien, Alex. Something strange is happening and we’re scared because we don’t know what to do, so I’ve asked to be put back in. I left instructions on my theory on how to get me out, but it’s untested, so I may be stuck in the pod for the foreseeable future. I needed you to know that I didn’t leave Roswell, and I didn’t give up on you._
> 
> _I love you, Alex. That’s never been clearer to me._
> 
> _When I get out of this thing, I hope we can figure this out. I don’t want to give up on us, but I also didn’t want to lose my life. I hope that you’re still on board with that promise I made, but I’d get it if you weren’t. If you still want to give things a shot, I guess we can figure it out once I get out of the pod, even if it’s definitely going to be complicated._

Alex let the letter fall to his side, adjusting his weight on his crutch so he could hop a little and stare back at Isobel and Max, whose faces were illuminated by the odd shifting colors of the egg-shaped _things_. If it weren’t for the Michael-shaped form inside one of them, he would’ve thought they were playing a practical joke on him.

“Michael is in one of those things,” Alex said, pointing with the letter frantically. “Why?”

Isobel rolled her eyes and even Max looked irritated.

“He didn’t even tell him in the letter,” Isobel griped to Max. “Useless lovelorn idiot,” she muttered. 

“We had to put him in the pod because we didn’t know what to do,” Max confessed. “We still don’t, but he was really specific about his wishes that we bring you in and let you know. He felt that you had a right, given the...situation.”

“What situation?” Alex echoed, done with the bullshit. He wanted answers and he didn’t want Max and Isobel Evans dancing around the topic anymore.

Isobel sighed as she stepped towards the pod and pressed a hand to it. The cloudy wisps seemed to clear, long enough for Alex to step forward and see Michael inside, curled up on himself, and…

His eyes widened. 

Was he…?

No. 

He couldn’t be, could he…?

“I think I need to sit down,” Alex mumbled, caught off-guard by what he’d seen -- or at least, what he thought he’d seen.

Once his ass hit a cool stone nearby, Alex realized that wasn’t going to be enough. He hadn’t eaten in too long, the stress of being home was overwhelming, and his injury was sending shooting pains through his body. The shock of what he’d just seen on top of it all, and finding out Michael was an alien was the little straw on top of the camel’s back.

“Alex, are you…?”

Isobel’s concern faded into the tinny ringing in his ears as Alex collapsed and blacked out, because that just seemed like the easiest path right now.

* * *

One can of Coke, two shots of whiskey, and a cold compress to his head later and Alex felt roughly like he was human. 

In this case, the only human in the cave. 

“This is impossible.”

“I told you that we shouldn’t have told him.”

Alex felt like he might incinerate Isobel with a single look giving the glare he threw her way. “Don’t even think about taking it back,” he warned, because their explanation of what they could do scared the hell out of him. Michael had telekinesis and Max could heal or destroy, but Isobel could take it all away.

It didn’t matter if it was impossible, it still _was_.

“Michael’s pregnant.”

There. He said it out loud, and the world kept on turning.

Alex’s panic was also experiencing an uptick as reality began to sink in. “You said that he went in there seven months after I was deployed and that he’s…”

“Seven months pregnant,” Isobel cut him off, giving him a bemused smirk. “Congratulations, Alex Manes, you are the father. Somehow. This alien shit is way beyond my understanding, Michael was the one who seemed to know about it, but clearly not enough to use protection.”

Alex flushed as he remembered the day. They were in the Airstream, the box of condoms was empty. Instead of running out to get more, Michael had convinced him that he was clean with a thorough sexual history that involved protection with every other partner and Alex’s history started and stopped with his right hand, given that he was stationed in the desert.

How the hell was he supposed to know that Michael could have kids.

There were other things to contend with. Michael had been in that pod for over three years, which meant there was an age gap between them now. Michael would only be twenty-five, though if Max and Isobel weren’t lying to him, then they’d spent fifty years in these things.

To say that Alex had a headache was putting it mildly.

“What do you want to do, Alex?” Isobel asked him.

That was the question. 

“I need to get him out of there. How do we do that?” 

Max and Isobel exchanged a wary look, one that didn’t fill Alex with confidence.

“ _Tell_ me you have a plan!”

“He’s a pregnant twenty-four year old male alien!” Isobel snapped back at him, clearly overwhelmed. “We didn’t exactly get a handbook here, Alex! He left us instructions, but we don’t know if they work. Even if they do, what then? He’s still pregnant and none of us know how to get the baby out of him and we don’t exactly have a doctor we trust!”

She was right. It was making Alex panic a little more, but she was right.

“We take him home,” Alex said. “I’m not leaving him in there while I get older, not while he’s pregnant with my kid.” His stomach twisted up at the massive weight of responsibility suddenly on his shoulders.

Luckily, the details of how to care and raise a child were a distant thought.

The only thing in his mind was a bolt of sureness, more confident than anything else.

He’d be a good father, because he’d had the worst one possible. He knew how to raise a child and love them, all because he wasn’t. He knew every last thing _not_ to do, and that was going to have to be enough. 

“Get Michael’s instructions,” he said roughly. “We’ll start running trials on his theory.”

Casting one last look at the pod and Michael inside it, Alex knew he wasn’t ready for this, not really. Neither was Michael, and that was why he froze himself inside that thing. 

“We’re waking my boyfriend up,” Alex announced. 

They’d figure out the rest along the way.

* * *

“Alex. Alex, wake up!”

The sleeping bag he was wrapped in constricted Alex, but Isobel’s hand shaking his shoulder made him nearly choke himself in his frantic flurry of movement to get out. He blinked awake in time to see hands emerging from the pod. “Holy shit,” he whispered, unzipping the bag frantically and stumbling out of it, hopping around to get his crutch and reaching for his prosthetic as Isobel held it out to him.

Michael was _emerging_ , all on his own. 

He tried desperately not to take his eyes off the pod, but he had to get the sock and prosthetic on if he was going to be able to help Michael out. By the time he was on his feet, swaying and only steadied by Isobel’s hand on his shoulder, Michael had only emerged so that his hands were reaching out, but no further. 

“Here, the silver,” Max said frantically, and handed them a bowl of liquid silver, per Michael’s note. They hadn’t been able to make enough of it to coat Alex’s whole arm, so they would only be able to dip his fingers and his wrist in it, which Alex prayed would be enough. 

“What does Alex do?” Isobel asked, her tone strained. 

“I don’t know! I’ve never de-podded someone before!” Max snapped back at her, coating Alex’s palms frantically, up to his wrist like he was about to scrub in for a surgery. 

It wasn’t enough.

That was all Alex could think. It wouldn’t be enough silver, and Michael would be stuck in some hellish half-state between the world and the pod. They should have found more silver, or gone to a pawn shop to empty their shelves, but it was _too late_ now, wasn’t it?

“That’s fine, that’s enough,” Alex insisted, trying to pull away from Max.

“You’re barely covered! It’s not going to work!”

“Shut up and tell me that after it fails,” Alex snapped, his patience running thin. It was the best shot they had of getting Michael out, and after days of useless attempts, he needed to believe that this one would work.

“I’ve got you,” Isobel promised, grabbing Alex by the hips as Max steadied his shoulder. “Pull him out.”

Never mind the fact that Michael was pregnant inside the pod. This all felt squeamishly like giving birth in a completely different way. With the help of the aliens, Alex was able to pull Michael out of the pod, staggering back. He nearly lost his balance, only stopped by Max grabbing him by the arms. 

They’d rescued Michael from the pod.

Or, rather, Michael had reached out and they gave him the last helping hand he needed. 

Alex felt like he’d lost the ability to breathe. Michael was standing there covered in a viscous slick substance, holding onto his swollen belly with tender care. He scrambled to get his crutch on steadier ground, digging it in as he watched Michael grow accustomed to his surroundings.

It was taking every shred of Alex’s patience not to knock Michael over with a hug before demanding to know what the hell happened and how he could be knocked up. 

Michael hadn’t noticed them, yet. He was still staring in awe at his stomach, as if in awe of what he was seeing. Alex got it. He felt pretty ridiculously knocked off guard every time he thought about the fact that Michael was pregnant, and now he was seeing it with his own two eyes. 

Then, Michael looked at him and Alex’s world stopped.

His heart shattered in his next breath when Michael barely stopped to look at him, his gaze sliding right through him, as if he’d never seen Alex before in his life. Alex had lost his leg and this somehow felt worse. There was no recognition in Michael’s eyes. It was like he didn’t even know him.

“Michael,” Alex whispered his name.

It drew his attention back to Alex, but he didn’t look like he knew him any more. “That’s me?”

Alex nodded, wordlessly. He tightened his grip on his crutch while Isobel wrapped a hand around his upper arm, holding onto him. There was no way in hell he could look her way, because the idea of seeing sympathy on her face would shred him to pieces. Even with the prosthetic on, he was too unsteady, and he felt like his world was falling away from him.

“It’s what you’re called here,” Max gently corrected.

Alex would have glared at him, because _fuck Max_ , but he was too busy feeling the hot sting of tears in his eyes. Michael didn’t remember him. “He’s Michael,” he snapped. “To everyone that matters, that’s who he is.”

“Michael,” he agreed, saying his own name like he was testing it out. His gaze slid down to his rounded stomach, and for the first time since he’d emerged from the pod, he smiled.

It was unlike anything Alex had seen in a decade, but he remembered that smile. 

It was the smile of, _not with someone I like_. It was the joy of a first kiss returned. It was his Michael with all the intervening years removed. 

“Right,” Isobel said, stepping towards him awkwardly as she held out a blanket. “Congrats? You’re pregnant?” 

That didn’t seem to cause Michael any grief. He was still smiling in that overly warm way, adjusting the blanket over his shoulders so that he could press both splayed palms to his stomach, the skin glimmering a soft pink as it shifted, almost as though the baby was responding. 

“It’s a girl. She’s my baby girl.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” Michael confirmed, pressing his hands to his stomach. “I’m going to call her Lexi. Alexandra,” he spoke to his stomach. “It feels right. It feels like what I’m _meant_ to call her.”

Alex felt like the world was swimming around him. It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Then, Michael turned to _Max_. “Are you the baby’s father?”

Given that Max was standing there, not eating anything, he suddenly sounded like he was choking. “I...what...it…”

Undeterred, Michael’s gaze swept to Isobel. “Or you?”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “It could have been me? I can do that?” Then, realizing that Michael clearly had no idea who had knocked him up, Isobel cleared her throat. “No. Ew. Gross. No. _No_.”

“He gets it, Isobel,” Alex snapped, his tone sharp and icy, because Michael might not remember anything, but _gross_ was the very last thing that anyone should be thinking about Michael. 

Michael’s attention drifted back to Alex. In fact, he kept doing that, almost like he couldn’t stop looking at Alex, even if he couldn’t figure out why. That gaze turned into a slow thing, devouring Alex from head to toe with that gaze, all while his lips remained parted and his eyes thoughtful.

“And you are?”

“Alex,” he eked out, more air than sound. 

“Like Alexandra,” Michael said calmly. “Like my Lexi.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, not looking away, “like I’m yours.”

“You called me Michael, so I guess that’s me.” He said it like he was delighted to learn it, but Alex was freaking out. He knew his name, and he knew what the baby was going to be named, but nothing else. 

Alex felt like his heart was being squeezed and worried it might burst. On the heels of the earlier questions, he knew he needed to say something, because Michael wasn’t in this alone and he needed to know that. “It’s me.”

Michael turns his head to the side, a speculative and almost amused look on his lips -- like he already knew.

“You?”

Fuck, Michael was going to make him say it. “I’m the father of the baby. I’m…” He swallowed hard, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that his breastbone hurt. “... _yours_.” 

“I guess that’s why I knew I needed to name her Lexi,” Michael responded, reaching out to take Alex’s hand in his and pressing them over his bare stomach, swollen with an alien pregnancy. 

It occurred to Alex only then that Michael was still naked. 

“Isobel,” Alex said shakily. “Can we get a blanket? We should get out of here.”

“Michael! We still don’t have any answers, we don’t know what to do!” Max snapped at him, as Isobel handed Alex a blanket so he could drape it around Michael’s shoulders, tucking it around him to give him some privacy and decency. 

Given that there were three other people in the cave, you would never know it to look at Michael. He hadn’t stopped touching his swollen belly, his eyes closed as he hummed a lullaby in a haunting minor key. 

“I do,” he assured. “Our ancestors spoke to me. I know exactly what to do.” 

So it turned out that Michael knew his name, the baby’s, and also exactly what to do about the baby. Alex exchanged a wary look with Isobel, wanting to know if the pod was some kind of knowledge transfer, but she looked as clueless as he felt. Beyond that, it wasn’t very helpful. Alex wanted Michael to know _him_ and not whatever alien doula information had been beamed into his head. 

“Alex is right,” Isobel finally said. “Whatever questions we want answered don’t have to be in a creepy cave. Let’s go somewhere with clothes, plumbing, and a _lot_ of booze.” 

Max still didn’t look happy about it, but Alex had the suspicion that Max wasn’t going to be happy about any of this, which began four years ago when Alex had knocked Michael up in the first place. 

“Fine,” he relented, even though he was outnumbered two to one. No matter what he said, Alex and Isobel were going to do what they wanted.

And right now, they wanted to go home. 

For Alex, that meant going wherever Michael was. He wrapped the blanket a little tighter around him as he balanced Michael on one arm and his crutch on the other, eager to get to where all that booze was waiting for them.

Maybe Michael couldn’t drink, but Alex felt like he could do the drinking for two right now.

* * *

It turned out that Michael might understand what to do, but he was shit at explaining it to them.

Isobel had made a beeline for the vodka the moment she got inside, Max found clothes for Michael, and Alex sort of stood there in the middle of the room. The shock hadn’t worn off, it just felt like he had delayed it. Now, under a roof and feeling comfortable, the shock crept back into the space Alex had left open for it. 

Max quietly ushered Michael into the guest room of Max’s house to change, leaving Alex standing there, pretty sure that he’d lost all sensation in the remaining toes he had left. Thankfully, Isobel returned swiftly with the vodka and two _large_ glasses.

“You’re amazing,” Alex groaned, sinking down into one of Max’s armchairs. 

“Glad you appreciate me, seeing as I think we’re about to become family,” Isobel said wryly, sipping her vodka.

There was a lot to unpack there, and explanations that Alex was pretty sure he was owed, but seeing as he’d just found out that Michael was a pregnant alien carrying Alex’s kid and he had no memory, he was going to take this one huge problem at a time. 

“Hey, you’re becoming an aunt, not a father,” Alex pointed out, staring at the vodka and wishing that it had the ability to refill itself infinitely. 

Isobel stared at him for a long time, which prompted Alex to leap straight to the defensive.

“Not that I’m upset about that,” he swiftly said. “I wouldn’t be here if I was freaking out.”

Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. He was still freaking out, but he also wanted to be here. He’d just found out that Michael was an alien carrying his kid, who also didn’t remember Alex. Freaking out felt like the baseline reaction of any sane person in this situation.

Isobel made a ‘hmm’ noise that sounded like she didn’t quite believe him, but she filled up his glass with more vodka.

“Fuck,” Alex exhaled. “You’re aliens.”

“And you knocked up Michael, so which one is weirder?” 

Isobel stood up to pour another glass of vodka when she heard footsteps. Alex opened his mouth to ask how she knew who was coming, then remembered: _Freaky alien telepathy_.

It was Max, not Michael, which meant the glass was definitely necessary. 

“Michael said to tell you that your kid is trying to beam you messages of love and is getting confused why you can’t send anything back. Michael said he’ll explain nullified human telepathy and not to worry,” Max said, sounding uncertain as he accepted a glass of vodka from Isobel. “Fuck, he really doesn’t remember anything.” He sounded gutted, which Alex understood.

Michael being pregnant was one thing.

Michael not _remembering_ him was a kind of torture that the entire US Army could never have imagined to make him break (even though it would’ve done the trick within hours). 

“Did he say how we were supposed to get the baby out?”

“Every time I asked, he just rubbed his belly and said, ‘the time will come and all will be explained’.” 

Alex pressed his lips together firmly, thinking that he might be in love with Michael Guerin, but this amnesiac version of him was not winning him over. It was frustrating to the point that Alex wanted to tear his hair out, and he’d only known about this for a few hours. Michael had months of pregnancy left (maybe?) and how was Alex supposed to learn how to be a father when the alien carrying his baby didn’t even know him? 

“Great,” Isobel deadpanned. “So he’s still an asshole, just a different kind now.”

Alex was staring off into space, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. Nothing came to mind, and finally, he decided to just say the thing driving his deepest fears. It came out tinny and small, hardly sounding like himself even though he knew it was him saying it. “I don’t know what to do.”

His car was still parked at the reunion, not to mention the fact that he definitely wasn’t driving given how much he’d drank. He had a house that he was renting in town, so he ought to go there. Every time he thought to get up, his mind flashed back to the way Michael had rested their joined hands on his stomach, where Alex could sense warm psychic waves being sent his way.

His daughter was sending him messages of love.

How the hell was he supposed to leave after that?

“Don’t be a deadbeat Dad,” was Isobel’s kind advice on the topic.

Alex gave her a withering look. “I’m not going anywhere,” he warned. “I meant more like, do I stick around tonight? He doesn’t remember me.”

“Or us,” Max pointed out, in the middle of pouring himself a stiff drink. “What was all that talk about our ancestors and the old ways?” he kept mumbling. “How did he tap into that in the pods? The amnesia he’s experiencing tracks with how we were when we first emerged. We didn’t remember anything the first time out, but him knowing more means that he must still know it, it’s just buried.”

How did they unbury it, was the question?

“I guess we just take it day by day,” Isobel admitted. “And I am going to buy so many condoms,” she added firmly. “The last thing I need is a one night stand that leaves me like…”

“What about the lawyer?”

“Noah? Hasn’t called me since I broke it off to deal with the Michael problem,” Isobel admitted. “In retrospect, maybe that’s for the best, if I can apparently impregnate men. Or maybe just aliens? We really need a pamphlet for this.”

Alex felt like he needed a time machine. 

Only, he was lying.

There was a part of him that was beyond thrilled to think that Michael was pregnant with his kid. It was a real family, one that wasn’t overshadowed by his father’s monstrous legacy, and because of Michael’s alienness, it was so unique and so impossible and yet, it belonged to them.

It almost felt a little like their love.

Alex wasn’t freaking out about the future, he wasn’t worried about having a kid. The part that was really worrying him was the fact that Michael didn’t _know_ him. This was something Alex wanted to experience together, but he knew he wanted it. He wanted it more than almost anything he’d ever wanted.

The exception being, of course, Michael himself.

“I’m staying,” Alex announced. “For as long as Michael will let me, I’m staying right here.”

He was going to stay with his family.

* * *

He didn’t go home.

He still didn’t know what he was meant to do to get Michael’s memory back, but Alex had a few tricks up his sleeve when it came to Michael. Instead of trying to solve all their problems, Alex reached back to when they were seventeen to remember Michael’s favorite types of candy. He got Isobel to buy packs of red vines and M&Ms and gummy worms, putting them alongside a bowl of hot tomato soup and a grilled cheese he’d made on Max’s stove. Carefully, he loaded them on a tray along with some of Isobel’s trashy romance novels, knocking on the door. 

“Come in!”

Alex nudged his way inside, cautious to not overload the weight on his prosthetic. 

“I brought snacks,” he said, holding up the tray. “Can I…?” he gestured to the bedspread to approach, but he didn’t enter Michael’s personal bubble yet.

He needed full permission, especially seeing as Michael still looked at him like he barely knew him. Michael was staring up at the ceiling. Above him, objects danced with Michael’s telekinetic powers, which was one more strange thing that Alex was still getting used to. 

Was the baby going to have powers?

Why was it that the more Alex thought about this, the more questions that came up?

“Is this what I like?” Michael asked, letting the objects gently descend to the bed. 

“You used to,” Alex said, hoping that much hadn’t changed. “It’s probably not nutritious or good for you and you might have some lecture up your sleeve about proper alien nutrition, but I wanted to bring you the things I know you used to like.”

Michael reached out for the tray to carefully set it down, reaching for the spoon so he could take a few slurps of soup, followed by bites of grilled cheese. Alex watched him intently, feeling a little creepy as he catalogued his minute reactions, but he wasn’t disappointed.

The corners of Michael’s lips curved up with delight, grabbing the bowl of soup to drain it down, chasing it with a few gummy worms.

“It’s good,” Alex breathed out in relief.

“Yeah. Lexi loves it,” Michael praised. “I guess like father, like daughter.” 

He made his way through the candy like he hadn’t eaten in years (and, Alex supposed, he sort of hadn’t even though he was in the pod). Once he was finished, Alex carefully set the remaining candies on the bed and moved the tray across the room to the dresser, limping his way back. 

He’d been awake too long and his leg was definitely paying the price for it. He hadn’t looked, but he didn’t have to in order to know how bad the scarring was around the site. 

“You’re hurt.”

Alex balked at Michael’s sudden bluntness as he settled back on the edge of the bed. “No, I’m…”

“I can tell, we’re connected.”

Alex gave him a wary look, not sure how he knew that, but then his eyes slid over the rounded stomach Michael was sporting. Right. He was pretty sure that half his DNA in a pod in Michael’s stomach counted as connected, even if he was trying not to think too hard about that. Still, the idea that Michael was bogged down by his pain was maddening.

“I’m coping.”

Michael tipped his head to the side, putting the tray on the nightstand. “Why do you need to cope? You’re my person, let me heal it.”

Casual as you liked, he could heal it. Alex scoffed, feeling like he was in a living dream. “I don’t think that aliens, no matter how much they want to, can grow legs back,” he accused, in disbelief that he was even having this conversation. That was impossible, but Michael didn’t seem to be so stymied.

“I can’t,” he agreed with a smirk. “I thought I could help with the scarring?”

Michael still didn’t feel like Michael all the time. He was calmer than usual, filled with an old knowledge and a maturity that he didn’t seem to have before. Then there would be moments like this -- Michael would smirk at him, or lean in like he was going to steal a kiss, or act like the same old Michael Guerin that it was like nothing at all had changed.

Then, Alex would look down at his pregnant belly and remember that _everything_ had changed.

Alex blinked, opening his mouth, but the only sound that came out was a breathless little placeholder. “I…”

“It won’t hurt.” Michael leaned in, sitting on his knees as he swooped in. “I won’t bite,” he whispered, curling in towards him, so hot and warm and smelling of fresh rain and something else, that he couldn’t place, but smelled like home. “Unless you want me to. You already knocked me up, I take it that I’ve done plenty of biting already.” 

Alex let out a shuddering breath. It had been years since anyone had touched him the way Michael had and even though healing was a new concept for him, Michael’s hands on his bare skin wasn’t. 

He knew he was nodding and accepting Michael’s offer, but it still felt surreal. 

“Take off your pants,” Michael quipped. “I think I’ve probably said that to you before.”

“Not as often as you’d think,” Alex admitted, still feeling utterly shaken to his core. He reached down to start rolling up the leg before he decided that wasn’t going to do anything. Instead, he sat up and undid his button and zipper of his jeans, utterly grateful that he was wearing boxers today. “Stay there,” he instructed Michael, trying to get him back. Michael was visibly pregnant in the long-sleeved henley he was wearing and Alex didn’t want to push him.

Michael settled against the small fortress of pillows Isobel had set out for him, and when Alex had everything ready, he settled the scarred flesh near Michael’s hand, waiting with nervous anticipation. 

It seemed to cause some kind of reaction, given how Michael looked at him worriedly. 

“You’re scared.” 

Alex wasn’t sure if Michael felt it or if he saw it in his eyes, because he knew he wasn’t being subtle about it. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “You’re the first person to see this outside of my doctors.”

At first, Michael didn’t heal him. He let his fingers drift over the scarring, a lover’s touch rather than a healing one. “It’s proof that you’ve lived. Proof you did something,” he said.

“I don’t know that you’d say that if you had your memories,” Alex scoffed.

“Why?”

“Because then you’d say,” Alex said darkly, “that it was proof that I ran away. That it’s what I deserve for leaving you and us behind.”

“If I’m the kind of man who says that,” Michael replied after a long moment, “then you should smack the hell out of me. Maybe I wouldn’t,” he pointed out. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

 _Maybe you have amnesia_ , Alex thought, but didn’t say.

“I’m going to start slowly,” Michael said. “You’ll feel a little warmth. When I’m done, there’ll be a handprint on you and we’ll be more connected than we already are through Lexi.”

So that was how it worked. Lexi was somehow connecting them, but Michael was offering him some relief and a stronger connection. Alex stared at Michael, wondering if he should be nervous about this, but it could only help. Maybe this would end up helping with Michael’s memory, and if it didn’t, then maybe Alex could open up his mind to let him in.

Of course, that meant knocking down the walls he’d built up around the more painful memories, which he wasn’t so sure of.

“Okay,” he agreed, even though Michael’s hand was already splaying out against his skin.

He was so warm. He’d always noticed that Michael ran a little warmer than anyone else, but he’d always felt like it was just a Michael thing. Now that he knew better, he knew it was an alien thing. The soft touch of his fingertips to skin began to warm, then heat, like the universe’s best heating pad. 

Without realizing, Alex was groaning loudly, overwhelmed by the _relief_ of the pain suddenly vanishing away. It wasn’t sexual, but it felt like it was brimming with love, and for a terrifyingly hopeful moment, Alex thought:

 _Maybe he has his memories back_.

Only, Michael took his palm away and looked at his work with a satisfied little hint of a smile, too subdued to be the Michael Guerin that Alex was in love with. It hurt, but it was easy to ignore when he felt better than he had in months.

“Michael,” he exhaled, in awe of how incredible he felt.

“Now we’re truly connected,” Michael said, sounding smugly satisfied.

Alex carefully adjusted himself to roll the pants back down, focusing on the plates on the tray. He set them, one by one, on the nightstand, mainly so he didn’t have to face Michael and be so vulnerable and exposed with his flushed cheeks and the naked gratitude brimming in what he was sure was a teary look. 

He felt better.

No, that wasn’t even enough to describe it.

Alex felt a suffusing warmth sing through him that he wanted to shout about from the highest peaks. He felt loved and cared for. He felt healed. He knew he had lost his leg, but Michael had managed to make him feel like he was still whole, and the physical pain had abated, like it had been dragged out and held back. 

It would come back, but Michael had proven that Alex didn’t need to cope with it alone.

“I’m going to leave the food there, okay?” he said roughly, knowing he needed a break just to _breathe_ , before he became too overwhelmed. “I’ll be outside with Max.”

“Okay,” Michael replied calmly, like he was unaware of how shaken Alex felt.

(Impossible, given that they were connected and Michael definitely knew every single thing Alex felt in that moment) 

Alex closed the door firmly behind him, the empty tray dangling from his fingertips.

He hadn’t felt this good since the accident. Every day was filled with phantom pains and aches from the scarring. Michael’s handprint glimmered on his leg and left Alex feeling as best as he could, given the circumstances.

“Hey,” Max murmured, knocking Alex out of his daze. “You okay?”

“Michael just healed me.”

Max’s eyes widened with alarm. “What? When?”

“That’s not one of his alien powers?” Alex asked warily.

“Not before today it wasn’t,” Max hissed, his eyes scanning Alex like he was the key to unlock all of Michael’s other secrets. “What the hell did being in that pod do to him?” 

Alex glanced over his shoulder, watching Michael through the small crack in the door as he lay back on the bed, staring at the mobile above him. Little gusts of wind (probably Michael’s powers) spun it as he tapped his fingers against his belly. 

It robbed his memory and left something else. 

Alex closed his eyes and felt a burst of warmth through the handprint, realizing that even if Michael didn’t remember, some things didn’t change. He was still Michael’s person and they were still in love. 

“It taught him how to have that baby,” Alex said firmly. “Our job is to make sure we listen to Michael, and we worry about the rest later.” 

“How can you be okay with this, Alex?” Max asked him, sounding unnerved and scared.

Alex understood. He was terrified all the time right now, too. He had no idea how this worked, but he trusted Michael, and Michael didn’t seem like he was worried about the future. 

“What other choice do I have?” he told Max. “I’m going to make another bowl of soup for Michael. I’ll leave some extra for you and Isobel.”

Seeing as he didn’t have any plans to leave, Alex was intent on making sure he was providing for the people in this house. Until the baby was born or Michael told him to leave, Alex wasn’t leaving Max’s home.

* * *

“Hey, I’m ordering pizza, do you want…”

Max immediately shut up when he ducked his head in and got hushed by Alex, who was resting his cheek on Michael’s stomach. He was eight months and one week along, but Alex had yet to feel the baby kick or press up against Michael’s stomach. He couldn’t feel anything, not even like this, coaxing his daughter to press her hand to his. 

“What...are you doing?”

“Alex is worried the baby isn’t kicking.”

Sometimes, Alex wanted to smack serene amnesiac Michael, who said things like that so casually. Lucky for him, he had Max to react normally, eyes bugging out as he closed the door behind him, hurrying inside.

“What? That’s not normal! Michael,” Max growled. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I can feel her, you can feel her,” Michael said calmly. “Alien children don’t kick. They couldn’t kick past their pods.”

This wasn’t the first time that Michael had brought up pods. 

“Is that what’s going on, Michael?” Alex asked him. “Is Lexi in a pod inside you?” 

Michael nodded, reaching for the glass of acetone that he’d asked for. “The chemical properties in this combined with my alien DNA is working to make sure that she has everything she needs. It would be different if I were the female of our species, but our bodies adapt to what’s necessary.”

In that moment, he sounded like Michael again -- the nerdy seventeen-year-old that rambled about chemistry to Alex, when he couldn’t understand it to save his life. 

He was starting to remember, but nothing about his life. He knew what he ordered at the Crashdown and if you put him in front of a car, he could name all the parts of a car’s engine. Alex had discovered that Michael knew what size shirt he wore (or used to) and how to cook scrambled eggs.

Ask him about anything personal, like his background or who Isobel or Max or Alex were and he’d still be blank.

It was starting to feel personal.

“Pizza?” Max reminded them, sounding overwhelmed.

“Yeah, grab something for us,” Alex agreed, pushing both hands over Michael’s swollen belly again, trying to broadcast love and acceptance and joy towards Lexi. 

Max left them to their personal time, only returning when dinner was ready. Despite Max’s scowling, they put down a tablecloth on the bed and had pizza in the bedroom, watching television until they were both too sleepy to stay awake. Alex wasn’t even done clearing away the plates when he looked back to see Michael was already asleep.

He understood.

Alex was exhausted and he wasn’t even carrying an alien baby. He grabbed a blanket from the back of the desk chair and brought it back with him to cover Michael with, rolling up his sweatpants so he could detach his prosthetic and get some shut-eye, himself. Tired as he was, it wasn’t long before he was asleep too.

He didn’t stay asleep until morning, though.

In the middle of the night, it became clear that despite Michael’s amnesia, he still didn’t sleep. Alex remembered this from their time together on leave, from the summer before he left, and their brief time in the shed. Michael rarely slept. With Alex’s stress levels running high, he wasn’t sleeping much either.

Tonight, the cicadas were loud, giving him an excuse for why he wasn’t sleeping, but the real reason was on the opposite side of the guest room bed. 

It was a king size and gave plenty of room. Michael had a full body pillow that he slept with between his legs, which added an extra barrier of space, but even so, Alex found himself staring at Michael in the middle of the night, longing to slide closer to him.

It looked like he wasn’t the only one.

Michael didn’t open his eyes, but he clearly mumbled, “Don’t leave us lonely.” 

Alex let out a shuddering breath as he stared at him, not sure how he was supposed to deny him that. He knew that he wanted to be with Michael, but he was trying to respect him while he fought to get his memory back, but moments like this threatened to shatter him. 

Fuck all that.

Alex crawled across the bed to wrap his arms around Michael and hold onto him tightly, burying his face into Michael’s neck. He positioned his arms around him, one secure under his belly, the other tight across his chest. 

“That better?”

Michael let out a relieved sigh, sinking back into Alex’s body like he was the heat source. He tangled their hands together under the bump. Suddenly, Alex realized he’d never felt like this before. The burst of love and warmth and affection made him tear up, his eyes blurry, and he knew it wasn’t just holding onto Michael.

“She loves you,” Michael whispered. “Loves it when you hold me and her.”

“I love her too,” Alex managed to eke out, even though it shocked him how much he could feel for this tiny kid in a pod that he’d never even met before.

He’d spent most of his adult life thinking that he would never have a family or be a father because of the ways his father had messed him up, but one alien pod later and now Alex’s whole future was being rewritten before him. He could see it.

Him, Michael, and Lexi.

They would be a family, they would figure it out together.

The important thing wasn’t what happened to him in the past. Jesse Manes couldn’t ruin this. Alex wouldn’t let him. He held Michael and Lexi close and it settled his restlessness. It grounded him down to Earth, holding the universe in his arms, and Alex knew that this was all he needed.

His family -- his daughter and the man he loved beyond all words.

* * *

Their peace and quiet was shattered into chaos in the early hours of a cool September morning when Michael bolted awake, grabbed Alex’s hand hard enough to bruise bone, and announced, “She’s coming.” 

_Fuck_.

“Max!” Alex shouted. “Isobel! It’s time!”

He heard objects hitting the ground and swearing, which meant they were up. Alex wished, not for the first time, that Max and Isobel had agreed to let him bring in an actual medical doctor, but they were too scared of what might happen. It didn’t help that Michael kept insisting he would know what to do. Right now, Michael seemed to think he had it under control, but he kept screaming.

“You know that’s not making me feel very calm!” Alex shouted at him.

“It’s not supposed to,” Michael barked back at him. “Gimme the acetone,” he pleaded. “I need to have as much of that in my system as I can.”

Alex fumbled to get a bottle of nail polish remover, shoving it in Michael’s hand. “Is it like an epidural or something?”

“Yeah. Or something.” 

Alex watched as Michael drank back a whole bottle, grabbing the next before he was even done. The empty bottles were dropped in a small pile on the ground, but Alex had the feeling it would increase. “I think we should get you into the bathroom,” Alex said, glancing over his shoulder. “Max!” he shouted again. 

Max’s heavy footfalls (and the sound of him crashing into what Alex suspected was a picture wall) heralded Max’s arrival, with towels and acetone and six feet of carrying capacity. 

“Help me get him into the bathroom,” Alex instructed, under one of Michael’s shoulders. 

Max quickly ducked under the other, lifting him up. With Alex’s prosthetic, he wasn’t taking the brunt of this, which led to a probably comical vision of Michael completely lopsided as he leaned on Max, groaning loudly as he grabbed another bottle of acetone from Max’s hands to start gulping it down.

“Michael,” Alex said warily. He’d never seen him drink that much acetone in one sitting. 

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d been paying much attention to Michael’s habit of drinking nail polish remover through high school. Maybe he should have. Doing his nails would have suddenly been a lot better if he’d had Michael sucking the acetone off his skin when he was done.

Of course, then he’d always have a hard-on when he did his nails.

Trade offs. 

They got him into the tub, which Isobel had managed to fill to the quarter point with water (per Michael’s instructions). Alex nearly fell face-first into the tub, but Max caught him around the waist before that happened. “Should we take your pants off?” Alex asked, because Michael’s sweats were still on.

Michael shook his head frantically. There was sweat beading on his brow and he grabbed at the edges of the tub as he surged out, hissing in pain. “She’s not coming out like that,” he panted. “Seriously, do not stop with the acetone!”

“I conned an epidural out of Kyle. Well, he doesn’t know he was conned, but he gave it willingly,” Isobel said, holding up the needle in front of Michael. “This has got to be better.” He gaped at it, then her, and all that serenity from earlier in Michael’s pregnancy was a long-past dream. Now, he was fury and rage and all the angry parts of Michael Guerin that Alex remembered (and remembered being fuelled by).

“What the fuck, I don’t need a shot, I need _acetone_ , gallon-sized! I’m about to have a giant hole in my stomach like some kind of freak!” 

Yup, there was Michael Guerin. 

“I thought you said you knew how to do this!” Max snapped back at him.

“I know I need the acetone,” Michael said, gripping the edges of the bathtub as he sank back, breathing rapidly. “The pod is going to burn its way out of me,” he said, squirming, “and then Max is going to heal me. The acetone is building up in my body to numb me for when that happens.” 

“Really?” Isobel scoffed. “You don’t seem very relaxed.”

“You try having an alien c-section,” Michael growled back at her. Alex squeezed his shoulders, pushing back sweaty hair from his face to try and calm him. Michael keened desperately at the touch, practically melting into Alex’s hands. “You,” he said, staring up at him. “You’re the only one I really want,” he vowed, when Alex handed him a fresh bottle of acetone which went from full to empty in less than a minute as Michael drained it, letting the bottle clatter to the ground. “My beautiful, handsome Alex,” he praised. “Fuck, I know we should’ve used a condom, but I can’t even be mad.”

Alex leaned in on his elbows, stroking Michael’s hair back. “Hey,” he murmured. “We’re about to have a daughter. That’s all that matters.”

“I got too damn eager,” Michael mumbled. His words were starting to stick together, like he was drunk. Alex felt the press of a fresh container of acetone at his back, reaching for it so he could let Michael take gentle sips. “You were always so damn hot in that uniform. I never got used to it.”

Michael yelped as he was struck by another contraction, but where Michael seized in a spasm of pain, Alex had frozen up.

He’d never told Michael about that. In fact, Alex had never worn the uniform at Max’s house for fear that it might drag up the conversation topic. It meant that in order for Michael to know that, he had to _remember_ it. 

There was no time to focus on that, not with Michael’s stomach starting to fucking glow a pinkish orange color. 

“Oh god,” Isobel said, looking paler than Alex and that said something. “Oh my god, Michael’s really about to have a baby.”

Alex took the acetone and shoved it at Max. “You heard him. You’re on healing duty as soon as that pod comes out, so start drinking to prepare yourself.” He felt like he was on the cusp of another panic attack, which was a bad idea because the last thing anyone needed was for Alex to suddenly pass out.

Still, every time he looked at Michael’s stomach and how it glowed, Alex felt like he was tiptoeing so close to the edge.This was normal, he kept telling himself. For an alien who was giving birth to Alex’s daughter, this was absolutely normal and he shouldn’t pass out. 

To help cope with that idea, he reached down to grab the bottle of vodka to take a shot himself.

“She’s coming,” Michael eked out through gritted teeth. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, as he slumped back. His eyes had gone wide and it looked like he’d suddenly been injected with drugs given the way he seemed to drift out of consciousness. It almost looked like Isobel had injected him, but the epidural sat on the tub untouched.

Alex gave Max and Isobel a confused look, but neither of them looked like they had the answer.

Luckily, Michael wasn’t completely out of it. “Acetone build-up,” he said. “It all released at once, oh fuck, oh baby,” he all but purred, patting Alex’s hand. 

Well, that explained their sudden drugged alien.

“Will that help?” Alex asked Max.

“I have literally never done this before, Alex,” Max snapped back at him. 

“Neither have I!” Alex retorted, feeling like he was the one who was allowed to lose his patience, seeing as he was the one who was about to become a father.

“Both of you, shut up!” Isobel said, sneaking in between them to take hold of Michael’s hand with hers. “Michael is having a kid and we can all freak out about the glowing light show in his stomach later. Michael, talk to us. How do you feel, are you okay?” She reached down, letting her hand hover near his belly, but then had to yank it back. “Ow, okay, fuck, that’s hot.”

“It’s burning through,” Max said, eyes widening with horror as he took another slug of acetone to get himself ready for the healing. “Alex, get some rubber gloves. You’re on pod retrieval duty.” 

He took the gloves that Isobel smacked into his hands, tugging them on as he leaned forward over the tub. Alex had only taken thirty seconds, but already the edge of a small pod was phasing through Michael, the skin around it looking burnt and awful. Michael didn’t seem to even realize, given how out of it he was. 

Acetone buildup, and a scary degree of it, by the looks of it.

“Max, can you heal him as we go?” Isobel asked. 

“I think it needs to stay open,” Alex said, almost horrified at the process. If Max started to heal it, then the pod would have less room to actually get out. That was the last thing they wanted, because it might prolong things and Michael might not have enough acetone in his system to actually push the pod out.

If this was how alien births worked for the male of their species, Alex was beginning to think they needed resolutely strong stomachs to be able to witness this.

He could freak out later (a thought he was starting to have a lot). Alex shifted forward with his gloved hands on the pod, trying to pull it out as gently as possible. He slowed down when Michael started to scream so loudly that Alex feared that Max’s neighbors might hear, even if they were miles away.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Alex apologized hurriedly, wincing as he gently pried the pod out, staring at the baby inside a fluid. He prayed Michael knew how to get her out of there, too, because they hadn’t even figured it out for Michael before he managed to solve the problem for them.

The pod was so _small_. Alex gaped at it as it finally pried loose and fell into Alex’s waiting hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tears on Michael’s cheeks and Max frantically healing what looked like a horrifying wound, but it began to knit together swiftly once Michael took Max’s hand. 

It almost looked like they were both healing it, together.

Alex couldn’t focus on them. He knew he should. He knew he should be worried about Michael, but he was staring at the pod in his hands and tiny fingers prying past it, retracting when they hit the air, almost like it was too cold.

“Lexi,” Michael murmured, slumping back into the tub. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

Alex frantically shifted to place the pod in Michael’s arms, remembering how warm he was. If Lexi was going to emerge, she’d do it for her alien mother, whose body temperature ran hot enough to be comfortable for a baby that was reluctant to come out into the world. 

Prying off the rubber gloves, Alex folded himself on the floor as best as he could, dragging himself along the tub to sit at Michael’s side, his gaze flickering down to his stomach. It wasn’t flat, but there wasn’t a shred of a wound. There weren’t any scars, but Max’s handprint glowed like a stamp of approval.

“Thank you,” Alex turned to Max. “I know you would’ve done it anyway, but thank you.”

Max looked pale and exhausted, but Isobel was feeding him acetone. They were both looking at the same thing Alex was.

They were staring at Michael and Lexi in her pod, the byplay between them, and the emergence of tiny little fingers. They jammed themselves into Michael’s chest, and then the other hand came out, seeking warmth. Ten tiny little perfect fingers, which Michael gently tugged on, and when her head broached the pod, she _wailed_. 

It dragged a relieved sobbing laugh out of Alex, hearing his daughter for the first time. 

He hadn’t realized just how worried he’d been until he heard her cry and seen her fingers. With ease, Michael pulled her the rest of the way, and once she was out, the pod began to disintegrate into a fine powder that dissolved into the low bathwater level in the tub. There she was, with no umbilical cord and no belly button, but she was whole.

Ten fingers, ten toes, and a shock of dark hair, just like Alex’s. 

Then, she opened her mouth and let out a viciously human scream. There she was. There was his little baby girl with her half-alien organs and her very human body, screaming as the cool air hit her. Michael adjusted her in his arms and brought her closer, stroking his fingers through her hair. 

“Easy,” he soothed, reaching for Alex with his other hand. “Easy, now, we’ve got you. Your fathers have you,” he promised. 

Closing his eyes tightly, Alex murmured an apology when that sent tears down his cheeks and onto Michael from where he had his chin pressed to the top of Michael’s head. They were okay. They were both safe and alive and the baby was here. 

“It’s okay,” Michael promised, sinking back in the tub like the acetone hadn’t quite fled his system. “We did it, Alex.”

“No, this one is all you, and Max,” Alex said, turning to Max with a grateful smile. “Come meet your niece,” he encouraged both Max and Isobel. Even though he made room for them, Alex didn’t budge. He wasn’t going to, not until he felt soothed that both Michael and his daughter were okay and he didn’t know how long that would take. 

Lucky for him, neither of them seemed to mind much.

Alex intended to stay _right_ there, as long as he could.

* * *

It had been four weeks since Lexi had come into the world and Alex was going a little stir-crazy.

“Michael,” Alex pleaded. “Can we please get out of here? I love you, and I know there’s a lot for us to do to get my house ready for when Lexi is walking, but it’s not yet. I need to get out of here, I need fresh air.”

They were safe to go, too. Alex had made sure the birth certificate was suitably forged, the adoption papers were in place, and for anyone who cared to look, Lexi Guerin was theirs, completely. He knew that it’d be nearly impossible to convince Michael to leave the house without Lexi, but Alex already had a plan for that.

“I have a papoose,” he said. “Let’s go see the town and show it to Lexi.”

They might end up having to answer some questions, but they had a story ready to go for that, too. Michael had left town for a few years to go find himself -- a year ago, he’d met a woman on the reservation where Alex’s mother grew up and they’d had a few one-night stands, resulting in a baby. 

The implication was that Michael had wound up fooling around with a cousin of Alex’s, hence the uncanny resemblance. 

It was a story Alex hated because it diminished his importance, but the last thing he wanted was for anyone to look too closely at a reason to lock them up. If it kept Michael and Lexi safe, then Alex would lie to the moon and back. 

“Okay,” Michael allowed. “Do you want me to…?”

“No,” Alex didn’t even give him a chance. He was already pulling on the papoose over his polo t-shirt, wanting as much time with his daughter as he could get. They were still bonding, but Alex didn’t have a psychic connection like Michael did with Lexi. It meant he had to work twice as hard, but he was willing to put in the time. 

Michael drove them into town, which was another indication of his Michael coming back (because when Max had taken him out for lessons earlier in the week, he’d just taken control and driven like no time at all had passed). 

It was their first time out in public in months, but for Michael, it was technically his first time back in Roswell in years. His patchwork memory meant that there was a lot for him to learn, but Alex figured they could start small.

Adjusting Lexi’s hat when he got out of the car, dabbing some sunscreen on her cheeks, Alex gestured down the main strip. “Let’s just walk for a while.” 

Michael seemed on board for anything Alex suggested, but he’d always done that. The last few weeks, Alex had caught Michael staring at him with a secretive little smile, like he knew something that Alex didn’t, and it was starting to drive him crazy. Today was no different, but like every other day, Michael also wasn’t in a rush to share why he was like that.

Alex kept a hand on the back of Lexi’s head, rubbing his thumb against the soft hair while she snuggled in against his chest. Their little outing was already boring to her, considering she was half-asleep, but Alex figured they had plenty of time to make her fall in love with the Crashdown and the local bakery and the way the main strip looked at sunset. 

Alex turned to ask if Michael was hungry, only noticing then that he’d lost him a few stores back.

“I remember music.”

Alex turned back to see that Michael had stopped in front of the condemned UFO Emporium. He adjusted Lexi in the papoose (he’d nearly bit off Michael’s head when he’d asked, with genuine worry, if he could handle her when he was still adjusting to his leg) and wandered back to Michael’s side.

His memories were coming back in small gaps, more by the day. It was as if the first one had released the rest, and they flooded Michael’s brain one by one. Michael had to confirm them all, like he couldn’t believe them without verification. 

“Lexi-bug,” Michael whispered. “This is where your Daddy and I kissed for the first time, after your Daddy gave me a guitar so I could play music.”

Alex stared at him wondrously. It was one of the best memories that Alex had ever held, but to have Michael remember it now meant the world to him in ways he didn’t think it could. They spent the rest of the day talking about the things in Roswell, confirming that Michael remembered it or had a sliver of that memory.

It was hope.

His Michael, his boyfriend (maybe? God, should he be proposing? Alex really needed to figure out how this worked) was coming back to him. 

That left one problem, though. If Michael was going to fully return, then it meant that not only the good had to come back, but the bad, too. 

With Michael’s memories slowly slotting back into place, Alex was faced with a new dilemma -- there was one specific memory that had yet to return and he would do absolutely anything to prevent it from coming back. 

Instead of thinking about the shed, Alex devoted his efforts into this new home. 

Some might call what he was doing _nesting_. 

In fact, Michael had caught him a few times and made that comment -- once when Alex was sizing up curtains, once when he was adjusting the multiple throws and pillows on the couch, and once when he’d caught Alex stocking the cupboards with all of Michael’s favorite foods. It didn’t matter. Alex was happy, Lexi was healthy, and Michael was more his Michael by the hour. He kept catching Alex by surprise with a mid-afternoon kiss or a hoarse whisper asking him to make out in the study. 

They had a home in Roswell, and they weren’t going to be scared away.

“Sweetheart,” Michael deadpanned, watching Alex fluff up the pillows. “If you put another throw pillow on that couch, it’s going to become a drowning hazard.” 

Alex stared at the pillows, then at Michael. “I just want everyone to be comfortable,” he protested, his brow wrinkling. 

Michael leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead, snuggling up in the veritable pillow fort that Alex had unintentionally created. “It’s perfect,” he vowed, reaching out for him and yanking him down on top of him. “Lexi’s napping,” he whispered. “Wanna make out, knowing that if we fall, we got all the padding we need?”

It was enough to earn a mild petulant glare, but Michael swiftly kissed that away. It was yet another hint that Michael Guerin was slotting back into place, more like an ocean wave filling a hole with water slowly than a flood doing it all at once. It had happened so calmly and so naturally that Alex had barely noticed that one day, Serene Alien Michael was there and the next, Emotions on his Sleeve Cowboy Michael was back. 

Alex gave in to his baser urges, because making out with Michael was something he still hadn’t shaken from his habits as a teenager, but it also wasn’t something he wanted to give up, so he was more than happy to indulge and forget about the issue tickling at the back of his mind, ever-present when Alex deigned to pay attention to it. 

The thing was, while Michael’s memories were all back, there was one that seemed to be missing. That, or Michael just didn’t bring it up. They never spoke about why Michael couldn’t play guitar, and when Michael’s hand cramped, he would squeeze it and hide it, changing the subject when Alex would hint around it. 

“I don’t get it,” Alex said in bed, late at night, after they’d just tucked Lexi in after a midnight snack. “You have _all_ your other memories back, all of them,” he says, the frustration at not understanding the logic of this driving him insane. He slides his fingertips under Michael’s fingers and holds his damaged hand in his. “Why not this one?” He’d assumed, of course, that it wasn’t back. Michael never spoke about it, which to Alex meant he was scared to ask what happened. 

It was still one of Michael’s memories, though, and it mattered even if it was bad. To Alex, it was every bit as important as the good ones in explaining their history and why they were the men they are.

Michael was staring at him fondly, even though his eyes were watery and sad.

Alex thought it was the saddest he’d seen him look, since he came out of the pod.

“What?” he whispered when Michael kept staring.

“Alex, it was the first memory that came back.”

Unwillingly, Alex flinched, letting out a wounded noise like he’d been stabbed. The _first_ memory. Michael’s first memory was his hand being damaged for life by Alex’s father. How? How could that be true when Michael was lying in bed with him, curled up together as they fought through the exhaustion of having a newborn alien baby to care for.

Alex felt the ache in his chest, the worry eating him alive.

“You remembered that about us first and you didn’t want to leave?”

Michael cupped Alex’s cheek, like he needed to hold onto him. “I’ve never wanted to leave you,” he said quietly, guiding Alex forward so they could press their foreheads together. “Alex, I know everything there is to know about you and I have loved you every day that I’ve known how incredible you are. I look at you and I feel like I’m seventeen again. You make me feel like I’ve found my family.”

Alex laughed, but it felt less like he was happy and more like the air was being pushed out of him because he was so relieved. “That’s cuz I knocked you up.”

“It was a nice benefit,” Michael confessed, laughing along with Alex. “I remember it all, Alex,” he vowed. “I’m sorry I left you like that. I’m glad that I went into the pod so we could do all this together, but I’m sorry that I came back without my memory. Guess we didn’t really account for what happens when you shove a pregnant alien into a gloopy egg mess.”

The promise that it was fine was on Alex’s lips, but he sealed it with a kiss, pressing their foreheads together. “I missed you,” he admitted. Sure, Michael was still there, but every time a small piece of the puzzle was missing, it left Alex wondering how much they had left to rebuild. “Stay with me this time, okay?”

“I’m gonna need that promise right back,” Michael warned. “Stay?”

“You’re the father of my kid,” Alex replied. “I’m not nesting for just anyone, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Michael said, a bit dreamy, a bit dazed, and completely dopey. “I missed you too, even though you were here the whole time. I’m glad you came back to me.” He cupped Alex’s neck, keeping him close. “I’m glad you came back to us,” he whispered.

Alex knew one thing above all others. 

“And now, I’m never going to leave,” he vowed, leaning in to kiss Michael to seal those words and make him understand that Alex had the life he wanted, and he’d nest forever in it with his two favorite people, all because he could. 

This was his home. This was his family.

* * *

“We’re out of condoms,” Alex said, once Lexi was out the door to attend her very first grown-up sleepover at her friends’ house. He still wasn’t sure about it, because she was still learning about boundaries and her powers. Sending her off to a house full of humans and a high-pressure social situation seemed risky.

Michael said that she was seven and very mature and deserved to go have some fun.

Alex just thought he should have installed the button-cam on her backpack strap last week and asked Isobel if she had any qualms about mind-wiping other seven-year-olds.

Michael nodded absently from where he was reading his textbook in bed. He was nearing the final exams before he got his PhD in agricultural engineering and most days were devoted to his thesis. Books in bed were normal, just like guitars in garages to support Alex’s album writing.

“Michael?”

“I heard you,” Michael said, reaching over to grab his bookmark (one of Lexi’s first drawings) to mark his place. He sprawled back on his elbows, considering Alex for a long moment. “Don’t buy more.”

Alex felt his stomach drop, heart skip a beat, and a frisson of _want_ and warmth push through him. “Uh…” He had to make sure he was hearing this right. “Did Liz give you a surgery or something?” 

They’d talked about it, but Michael hadn’t said one way or the other whether he wanted to do it.

Michael stared him down and then, very purposefully, he said, “Nope.”

 _Oh_.

“Promise me this time, you won’t forget me?” Alex said, even if he kept his distance. He wanted to make sure he got that promise before he advanced even a single step. 

Michael smirked at him. “Well,” he deadpanned. “We’ll see.”

It looked like Alex was going to have to _work_ to make sure Michael remembered him this time. Luckily, he’d learned a trick or two over the last seven years and he wasn’t afraid to use any of them.


End file.
